With Whiskey and Serpents
by lildragongirl19
Summary: It's a shame that snakes are the animal people fear even after all the work they do taking out the diseased rats.


With Whiskey and Serpents

**Summary: **"It's a shame that snakes are the animal people fear even after all the work they do taking out the diseased rats."

I do not own anything of My Hero Academia. This anime is owned by Studio Bones, and the English adaptation is licensed by FUNimation. Please support our heroes!

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"_Because we focused on the snake, we missed the scorpion." -Egyptian proverb_

The rain had been drizzling outside for hours. It never did become a downpour, those sudden curtains that chase people indoors to seek shelter. Instead, it teetered on that tipping point as if the clouds were conscious and couldn't decide whether to completely dump their tears or hold them back.

This indecisive weather was extremely annoying to the bartender. It wasn't cold or wet enough to justify closing shop early, but it also didn't seem worth the minimal traffic that came inside to drink. A few did manage to totter in, some more soaked than others, seeking some warmth either in the form of a building's heater or a shot of whiskey. But tips were still stretched thin, and many left after a short visit.

Currently, three men were having a private conversation in the corner, and a loner sat at the bar considering another Old Fashioned. That was it. A slow night, with some cold misting outside. There wasn't even any music playing – the bartender wasn't fond of distractions. So instead, the only sound was the occasional car running past in the wet and the soft chatter of his few attendees.

The bartender huffed, drying off a glass with visible grouchiness.

The little bell that signaled the front door opening tinkled, and the bartender paused to look at whoever was coming in. He immediately scowled.

A tall, lanky man in a long black coat strolled in. Between the squeak of his heavy boots and the shimmer from the low lights on his hair, it was obvious he had been outside for some time. He was borderline drenched.

After closing the door behind him, he brought his hands up to his hair, ruffling it to scatter the droplets of water. His coat glistened as rain dribbled onto the floor.

"You know," the bartender barked, "You come here often enough that I'd trust you to borrow a damn umbrella. Getting water all over my floor like that – no courtesy."

The younger man continued to shake as much water out of his hair as he could. When finished, he lowered his hands and looked up, the yellow lamplights that were distributed around the bar illuminating his face. His teal eyes glimmered, the lower half of his face scarred and thickened as evidence of severe burns and a gnarly past. But despite the rough appearance, he offered a friendly smile across the shop.

"Sorry Pops," Dabi stated simply. "It's a long walk for me. But you know I wouldn't go anywhere else."

The middle-aged bartender huffed again, setting his glass down. The men in their corner hardly turned away from their conversation. The loner glanced at the newcomer, but was uninterested in Dabi's entrance. He returned his gaze back to his almost empty glass. Dabi himself wasn't a newcomer to the shop, and his guise certainly wasn't unique from the other visitors that frequented here.

"Well, before you drip on anything, do me a favor and at least try to dry yourself off." The other man leaned down to grab a dry rag and tossed it to Dabi. The other caught it deftly, giving the cloth mild regard. The bartender crossed his arms. "I don't have a towel for ya, but at the very least dry off that wild hair of yours. I don't care about the floor, but I'm not having water spots on my counter."

With that answer, Dabi could only chuckle.

"If you'd allow me to use my quirk, I'd be dry in no ti–"

"No flames inside my bar!" the man snapped back quickly. "I'll pour all your whiskey down the drain if you burn another piece of furniture in here!"

Dabi placed his hands up in surrender, a playful grin on his face.

"Okay! Okay! I heard you! Come on, now – that's a cruel threat. I can't get whiskey like yours anywhere else in this city."

He proceeded to approach the bar, using the rag in his hair to collect as much of the rain as possible. When he made it to the bar, he shrugged off his coat, hanging it politely on an empty stool to drip dry.

Dabi took a seat beside it. The bartender approached, his hand outstretched with an impatient look. The fire quirk user understood, of course, and handed back the rag from his head, its use fulfilled. He probably wouldn't get his drink at all if he had set the dirty rag on the countertop.

"The regular?"

"Yes sir."

The bartender walked over to the far edge, reaching underneath into a deeper cabinet where he extracted a glass jug. It was half full, and inside sloshed an amber liquid that resembled scorched gold in the lamp light.

The bartender brought it back over to set on the counter. Leaning down, he brought out two fat glasses. Into one he poured the liquor, the strong aroma wafting into the air. In the other, a metal scoop brought rounded ice cubes to tumble noisily into the glass.

"Is that all you have, Pops?" Dabi gestured to the jug. The bartender paused and frowned at the younger man.

"If you would stick with stuff in the country, I'd never run out!" the man replied with a grunt. "But since you're the only one that drinks this Scottish crap, you better pay up for my next order."

"Come on, now. It was a rough week! Could you place an order ahead of time and I pay you during my next visit?"

"Then you better not drink all this down in one sitting! That way I have something to lure you back," the bartender offered a smirk. "Don't take me for a fool, young man. Your stolen money still gives me business."

Dabi scratched behind his ear with a laugh.

"You're a sly old man, Pops. Can't get any sympathy from you."

"I'm not that old!" he retorted while he set the whiskey aside. Dabi eyed it with a smile. Yeah, he'd probably finish that off. And he would gladly pay for it. Anything to get rid of the relentless ache in his shoulders and head.

The first time Dabi had stumbled into the place, it had been a terribly cold night. People outside shuffled around with hoods pulled up and hands seeking warmth deep inside pockets. It was one of those bone chilling evenings where people didn't really speak to each other, shuffling along quickly while staring at the sidewalks to get to their destinations.

Most people had been so focused on getting home that they didn't notice the lanky figure only in a baggy shirt, hands stuffed in his pants pockets as he slunk along with the few street folk. He had entered the bar without much thought, grumbling from his soreness and previous annoyance of the day spent with some low life thugs.

He was angry with himself at what had happened. He had been victorious in the end of the scuffle, but that surprise quirk really pissed him off. A group of low lives that had heard about the League and their ambitions, but instead of wanting to join in on the fun, they wanted to prove themselves as superior.

Worthless scum, hardly worth snapping his flames to life for. But when there's eight of them, it's hard to give them the cold shoulder. He had the gauze wrapped around his arm and the blood stain on his cheek to prove it. But in the end, he walked away with only some lacerations. Their corpses had crumbled into ash.

Dabi's body was always a little on the warm side, but the recent activity with his fire left the skin hot to the touch. The chilly night air was relieving, especially to the aches and pains that he unfortunately had to deal with from the altercation.

So when he dodged into a vacant bar to avoid further engagement with people, the sneer from the bartender about lack of a coat and getting blood on his floor was less than welcoming or pleasant.

"An empty shop and you're turning away business, old man?" Dabi had snapped back from the door. The bartender tapped the counter in irritation, brow twitching.

"Alright, smart ass. Get your freezing hide over here and tell me what you want."

And thus their little acquaintance had started, and the villain took his seat as the only patron at the bar. Dabi wasn't a spirits connoisseur by any means, so when the other man asked what he wanted to drink, the fire user didn't have an immediate answer.

"Something cheap that'll make this knife wound stop throbbing," he said. The bartender grunted.

"I knew it! Back alley thug coming here to warm his hide for free."

Dabi snorted.

"Fine, old man. Do you have any shit that nobody is drinking that I can have? I'll clear that for you – you name the poison."

The man paused, staring at Dabi for a moment. Finally making his decision, he set his dirtied rag down and marched to the far end of the counter.

He came back with a nearly full gallon jug of amber liquor. He practically slammed it onto the counter top.

"Some crappy foreign whiskey. This has been sitting in storage for 3 years. Have had two people try it and they instantly disliked it. Take your fill, hot shot."

The bartender pulled an empty glass from below and proceeded to pour Dabi his drink. Dabi picked up the glass, sniffing it with mild interest. Eventually he set it back down.

"I need some ice."

"Ice? It's freezing outside – how can you want ice?"

Dabi sighed, leaning back slightly.

"Do you want me to drink this sludge or not?"

The bartender huffed, throwing his hands up briefly in surrender. He then grabbed a second glass, filled it with ice, and set it next to the glass of alcohol.

More pleased, Dabi poured several cubes into his liquor, swirled the drink gently, and then brought the glass to his lips. To the bartender's surprise, Dabi tiled his head back abruptly and downed the entire pour.

"God damnit, that's good!" Dabi shivered afterward. The bartender was speechless. "May I have another?" Dabi asked with mock politeness.

The two continued on with their interaction, eventually Dabi feeling his pulse slow to a more relaxing pace with the effects of the whiskey. No additional company joined them in the terrible weather, and over that time Dabi spent there, the two started talking amicably towards one another. The bartender didn't ask personal or deep questions, but eventually inquired if Dabi needed the first aid kit. Dabi declined, reaching into his back pocket.

He then dropped a thick wallet onto the counter, getting up from his seat. The bartender blinked in surprise.

"I taught a lesson to some scoundrels earlier today. I hope what's in there will be adequate for your time."

The bartender cautiously reached for the wallet, unsure of himself. The man didn't seem stupid. Dabi was confident he knew it was stolen, and from a dead person at that. But the bartender couldn't resist pulling the folds open, glancing at the scarred individual in surprise. Dabi hadn't bothered to count the contents beforehand, but it clearly was much more than what he actually drank.

"I enjoyed my visit, Pops. I'll have to come by again for some more of that shitty whiskey," Dabi chuckled. And with that he exited back into the cold, leaving the stunned bartender by himself.

The current rainy evening continued rather uneventfully. The bartender chatted with the other man at the end of the bar, the loner now satisfied with his refilled Old Fashioned. The men in the corner laughed heartily at some joke between the three of them. Dabi risked letting his eyes rest, the iced whiskey cool against the constant heat in his palms. It was a relieving sensation during times like this, otherwise the tingle was a constant reminder of the flames that burned inside.

The drink was cold in his mouth with all the ice, but the liquor burned in his chest. The contrast was invigorating. After some time, the whiskey took its desired effect. He felt his fingers relax and his breathing slow. It wasn't a frequent feeling, but for this moment Dabi let down his defenses. This bar had become one of the few spots he had found where he could.

The bartender didn't ask questions, and that was probably the second reason Dabi continued to come here. It was obvious that Dabi wasn't with a good crowd, but the tender wasn't caring for that. As long as you provide for his business and respect his property, he would serve you. If you brought your trouble from outside into the bar, then you'd pay the price.

The groups that came here enjoyed the respite from the real world. Most had their baggage, and many probably should be behind bars. But it was a corner of the city that Dabi kept to himself from the League. After all, he hardly wanted to share his favorite Scottish whiskey. And as long as he kept bringing money, the bartender would keep filling his glass.

Suddenly, though, the bell jingled again signaling the arrival of a newcomer. Into the door walked two bodies hunched underneath a large leather jacket that they were holding up above them in an attempt to keep off the rain. When the coat was lowered, one head of short brown hair and another mop of longer black swung back to reveal the faces of two dazzling women.

Clad in primarily black leather and cloth, boots coming over their knees, the women were also adorned with dangling jewelry from ears and wrists that flashed in the streetlights behind them. Even Dabi had to pause with his whiskey held up, somewhat interested in these bedazzled newcomers.

The jacket had been successful in protecting what must have been the most time consuming portion of their outfits – their faces. The makeup appeared immaculate despite the persistent mist outside. Pale complexions were contrasted with piercing eyes, red lips, crimson nails, and striking contours that almost appeared as shadows painted on their skin.

The men in the corner halted in their jabbering to stare completely entranced. The loner down the bar counter watched them in silence, his eye brows raised in slight startlement. As much as the other men seemed to drown in their appearance, Dabi regarded the women with some suspicion. The fire user thought they resembled vultures with their attire, complete with blood stains on their lips and fingertips. He didn't care for the vibe they gave off, and with a quiet grumble turned his attention back to his drink.

And he had been looking forward to such a relaxing night to wind down.

"Wow, what a comfy little place this is!" The taller of the two, the lady with black hair, stated out loud for her audience. "You'd hardly notice it unless you were looking for it, what with its dreary appearance that hides it away."

Dabi had to hide back a smirk when he noticed the bartender's brow twitch as he worked behind the counter. The whole point of it being unordinary was on purpose, of course. It prevented most individuals he wouldn't care to serve from wanting to visit. Or even finding it in the first place.

The ladies stepped forward, their practiced movements fluid and mesmerizing for the other men, who probably hadn't blinked since they had entered the door.

"My sister and I were hoping for a place to warm up, though. Guess this will have to do."

She definitely had an animalistic presence about her, that's for sure. But the more she talked and moved, the more Dabi reconsidered his original guess of her nature. Her steps were smooth and deliberate, her hips swaying back and forth in a charming way as her jewelry rattled. When she was close enough that Dabi could smell the remnants of her perfume, he noticed her green gaze had slit pupils. Her figure was long and slender, and as she continued her monologue he finally determined that flicking in between her teeth was a forked tongue. This lady obviously had a reptilian quirk, and Dabi would bet a lot of money that she was a serpent.

Her companion was similar, but not exactly the same. She too had an animal quirk about her, but perhaps it was a different reptile. She was much quieter and kept her distance, but she observed her surroundings with a confidence that was unique to her. She was the sidekick, which obviously meant she was better than everybody but her superior.

Dabi scoffed as they got closer. He made the mistake of making eye contact with the snake as she approached, which apparently to her indicated an invitation.

The woman took her seat to Dabi's right, eyeing him from the side with a mischievous grin. Her sister strayed behind, standing as she observed the bottle collection along the wall behind the counter. Dabi tried to ignore them, but he was rapidly discovering that this wasn't going to be his lucky night of avoiding people.

"You seem familiar with this place," she crooned. "Care to buy a lady a drink?"

Dabi leaned back, truly engaging with the lady for the first time that entire evening, much to his displeasure. He donned a perfectly sarcastic grin.

"If I had some cash on me, I'd be delighted to. Unfortunately, I'm running on credit with the owner. It's my luck he feels sorry for me after a rough day."

The bartender huffed quietly, as if he felt the lie was terrible even by his standards. Leaving Dabi to fend on his own, the older man went down the row to speak with the loner, who had just finished his second Old Fashioned.

The lady, however, seemed to take the remark playfully.

"I don't believe that for a second," she said with a chuckle. "You may be beat up, but this place only has quality stuff. I've heard about it, but never been here before." She leaned enough over that her leather jacket brushed against Dabi's arm. She pointed at his glass. "What is your poison of choice?"

"Whiskey," he answered gruffly, bringing the drink to his lips so he could avoid continuing to speak. After he set the drink down, there was an uncomfortable pause, which seemed to irritate the snake woman. Apparently, she wasn't used to being ignored by a man.

"And the glass of ice?"

"To keep the drink cold."

"Wouldn't it water down so much?"

"I drink it fast enough."

She seemed perplexed. Dabi didn't really feel like giving an explanation. He highly doubted that, even if he did, the lady still wouldn't give him back his personal space.

"That's so strange. Don't you want to enjoy your dri-"

Her voice stopped suddenly.

In her approach, the woman had decided that personal space wasn't an issue, and her bare hand had come to rest on Dabi's arm. Since his jacket was still hanging on the bar stool beside him, the scarred, thickened skin of his arms lay exposed. Her hand had retracted suddenly after the brief contact.

Dabi's eyes followed her expression to see what she thought of the entire thing. However, her eyes didn't light up with disgust. Instead, it sparkled with intrigue.

"You're burning up." She brought her hand up to her lips. They widened in a sly smirk. "Let me guess…fire quirk?"

Dabi did blink in surprise, turning slightly towards her. The woman smirked wider with her guess.

"I've met a few of you hot shots over my time. It makes sense now why you're attracted to the cold. What do you think of a coldblooded heart?" She set her elbow on the countertop, leaning her chest forward. Her unbuttoned jacket billowed open. With a tight-fitting chemise underneath, the gesture exposed her collar bone and a significant amount of cleavage. Upon closer inspection, one could see scales mixing with skin as it reached down her torso.

"Do these scars extend down the rest of your body? I'm interested in finding out. If you're curious about mine, I can certainly return value for your time." She returned her hand to his forearm, fingers feather light as they trailed up to grip his bicep gently. "I've been told by multiple clients I am an expert with my tongue."

Her green eyes shimmered in the lamp light, that forked tongue flicking between her teeth seductively.

Any other day, Dabi might have just taken her up on the offer. After all, prostitutes rarely exaggerated their talents when approaching a man so boldly. Even he had to acknowledge her confidence, which added on to how tempting the entire scenario was.

However, his eyes drifted back to the whiskey on the counter, and the annoyance in his head far outweighed any curiosities. With a smirk on his own lips, the staples along his cheeks flashing as he tilted his head back, he answered the woman.

"Sorry, sweetheart. But I only like snakes that eat real vermin."

The woman blinked, seemingly unsure of what to take of that statement. But her face slowly transformed into one of irritation, tongue flicking briefly from between her lips angrily. Dabi was turning his attention back to his drink when the hand on him suddenly clasped in a tight grip. Nails bit into the skin exposed, and the strength of the hand was surprisingly strong.

"Even venomous snakes can squeeze their prey," she said with ice in her words. "I haven't been fond of this discounting attitude since I walked in here." Dabi lifted a brow at her. "If my lips can't charm your ears, then I'll rely on my fangs to get to your blood."

"Ohhh, someone does have a little bite to her." Dabi didn't hold back on his condescending tone. The woman abruptly stood up, her nails ripping grooves in the toughened skin on Dabi's arm. Her stool toppled over noisily, and a deep hiss could be heard from inside her chest.

Dabi stood up at the same time with her. Palms beginning to warm, his fingers a flick away from igniting a spark that could erupt into a flesh-eating flame in an instant.

The moment would have escalated quickly in the next second, if not the snake's companion behind them collapsed. The sister had suddenly clasped at her chest with both hands, her eyes wide with terror. In the next instant she had fallen hard to the ground.

One hand had tried to grip a nearby chair to stop herself, but the motion was too sudden and the piece of furniture fell with her. She ended up with one hand propping her up on her knees, the free hand still gripping at her breasts tightly. Her mouth was gaping open as a fish out of water, but no sound emerged.

The snake abandoned her conflict with Dabi, turning to look at her sister in bewilderment.

"Yuki, what the hell?!"

Dabi recognized instantly what was going on. He turned his head to see the bartender at the countertop. The older man was rigid, a deep scowl on his face, and from within his dark irises a faint yellow glow pulsed. It had been a while since Dabi had seen him use his quirk.

"Is this your doing, old man?" The snake had noticed Dabi turn to the bartender. With an audible snarl, she stepped towards the bar counter, red fingernails glinting has her lips peeled back to reveal vampiric fangs in her mouth.

Before she touched the bar top, two things happened simultaneously.

The other woman suddenly inhaled loudly with a gasp, her body crashing downward as she entered a violent coughing fit.

The former froze in her approach, both hands flying up to her throat. She became instantly silent, the same lack of sound that her companion had experienced just moments before. The snake's eyes dashed around wildly in shock, her body seemingly frozen.

"Listen here, darling," the bartender said sternly. His eyes smoldered in fury. "This location enjoys its peace and quiet. Thankfully my ability to create vacuum pockets empty of air is a fantastic way to shut people up. Especially when that vacuum is in their lungs."

The snake woman glared menacingly, but her whole body trembled with the effort to remain standing. The second lady had stopped coughing, but now was wheezing frantically as she pushed herself up on her hands.

"Now unless you enjoy comas," the bartender started again, frowning. "or you want to warm up your cold blood in Hell, I suggest you get your hide well away from my bar!"

The next moment, the glow in his eyes vanished, and the snake woman fell to the ground hard on her rear. She rolled over onto her knees, hair covering her face as she wheezed and coughed harshly. Her sister crawled over, placing a hand on the other's shoulder comfortingly.

The snake looked up, her eyes like daggers towards the bartender. Then she swiveled her gaze to Dabi, who had returned to his seat. He eyed her lazily, a loose fist resting against his cheek. He had a smile on his lips.

"Sorry, babe. Guess you're not the kind we like here."

She hissed loudly, her fangs briefly exposed again. But she pulled herself up with as much dignity as she could muster, her sister still shielding her protectively. An insult seemed to be at the tip of her tongue, but with a tsk she pulled her head away. She strolled gracefully, her composure mostly recovered, towards the front door and swung it open with force.

She gave a last severe glance at Dabi before stomping outside back into the drizzle. The door slammed behind her and her companion.

The bartender groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"Damnit, the last thing I need is a woman with an attitude in my bar. And you!" he added, wagging a finger in Dabi's direction. "If there are other troublemakers trying to get into your pants, you keep them out of this place!" The fire quirk user put his hands up defensively.

"Give me some credit, Pops! Don't worry about it. Unless she wants that tongue turned into ash, I think she'll keep her space."

"She better! Now, you want another pour or what?"

Dabi considered it, but then eventually shook his head slightly.

"Ah, my buzz is gone after that interruption. I'll save it until next time."

The bartender huffed, gathering up the jug and dirty glasses to return to their appropriate locations.

The other men in the bar had been dead silent during the entire affair, but now that the excitement was over, they went about their ways. The loner at the end looked to be almost ready to fall asleep in his spot.

Dabi downed the remainder in his glass with a single swig, feeling the heat in his hands finally cooling down. Standing up, he went to grab his coat, now just about completely dry from the rain outside, and reached inside a pocket. He extracted an envelope, damp around its corners, to toss it onto the bar counter.

"Here, Pops. I owe you a big tip for your help today."

The older man grasped the envelope, stuffing it into his back pocket without much thought. He then began to lazily return back to his smaller tasks, wiping off his already spotless countertop and placing now dry glasses away on their shelves.

Dabi had been heading towards the front door, but suddenly stopped remembering something.

"Hey, old man," he spun around. The bartender glared at him from over his shoulder, having turned around to place a wine glass back up. "I almost forgot to ask. Got anything for my little girl back home?"

The bartender groaned out load, wiping his hands on the front of his pants in irritation.

"Ugh, let me check the trap. Just hold on a second."

The man disappeared into the back for a moment, grumbling the whole way. Dabi couldn't help his smile, hands disappearing in his coat pockets as he waited.

Just a minute passed by before the older man shuffled back in, in his hands a large aluminum can with a plastic lid. The lid had several tiny holes punctured in the top. It appeared the bartender was going to come around the counter to hand it over, but instead he stopped near the end and tossed the can across the room.

Dabi was surprised, barely reacting in time to catch it in both hands to prevent it from hitting the floor.

"Whoa! Careful with the cargo!"

The bartender ignored the playful scold from his customer, gesturing instead towards the door.

"If you'd let me use poison, then the way I deliver it wouldn't matter."

Dabi ruffled his hair with a free hand, smiling slightly.

"I appreciate you not doing so. See ya, Pops."

"And I'm not that old, damnit!"

Without any further interruption, the fire quirk user slipped through the door, the bell jingling as he exited. His coat pocket was large enough to fit the aluminum can, so he placed it there for safe keeping. Inside there was a brief, panicked scuttling, but Dabi only made sure the lid was on securely before continuing down the sidewalk. By this point, the mist had finally stopped leaving behind a heavy dew in the cold air.

The journey back didn't seem nearly as long as the initial walk there. As Dabi rounded the corner, the shoddy apartments towering above him, he placed his hand back in his coat pocket as a reassurance his delivery was still there.

With a quick thought, his hand warmed up around the container slightly. The scuttling returned, little feet inside of a creature desperate to get out. He entered the building and walked up several flights of narrow stairs, leading to a studio apartment that was minimally furnished. However, near the window across the single room lay a large glass tank on a table, a warming red lamp shining down on its contents.

Dabi drew the container out from his pocket, peeling off the lid slightly to view inside. A mouse scurried around, panicked after all the movement and sudden temperature change. As Dabi approached the window, the sound of his boots disturbed another tenant from her snooze.

A forked tongue flicked out from underneath a rock overhang. Dabi came to lean over the tank, and with curious interest, a serpentine nose poked out from its hideaway. The smooth head and never blinking eyes appeared next, a beautiful coloration that blended into rotting vegetation and soil. She emerged, a boa constrictor from her cavern, to greet her handler.

Dabi considered pulling out the prey right away for her. The snake always struck the best with live food, and this was a vibrant mouse to entertain her. But Dabi had quite the long day, and the reptile always hid from the world to digest after eating. The man wanted at least a little time to visit his companion, so he set the can with the mouse still inside abandoned on a shelf to be used for later. He removed his coat and tossed it aside as well on the old couch nearby.

With the vibrations of Dabi walking, the occupant slithered out more to expose herself. Dabi leaned over after removing the glass lid, reaching in to present his hand to the serpent. Her forked tongue came into contact with his fingers.

"Hebi, that's a good girl," the man said with a smile.

The snake seemed to respond, extending her length to crawl up his wrist, his forearm, wrapping a coil around his own tough skin to grasp firmly. She had been hiding in a warm corner since the apartment was otherwise chilly. But as she slithered out, her entire length appeared to reveal a beautiful huntress approaching a yard in length.

Dabi stepped away from the tank, bringing his arm close to his chest. The snake sensed his warmth and immediately sought refuge around his collarbone. Once coiled loosely around his neck, the serpent huddled against his chest and shoulders. She snuggled close, tucking her head in the crook of his neck under one of her coils, spreading her body along the exceptional warmth radiating from him. It was her favorite spot.

Dabi smiled content, an expression that his face didn't experience often. It was moments like this where his mind did wander to what an experience could be like outside of the lifestyle he had chosen. Simple pleasures and moments of true serenity were few and far between. But then again, he knew the desire was naught to be. There was still so much to do for his ambitions and schemes. True satisfaction was far away from today, and the fire user had the understanding that he would only find that comfort eventually in one of two ways – either in the establishment of a new society from ashes, or in the welcoming of his own death.

But he took his customary place in the windowsill that was beyond the reptile tank. He could feel Hebi breath in and out as she nestled, thoroughly pleased now that her mobile heater had returned. Gazing into the city lights as the evening drew on into the quietest hours, he stroked the serpent softly as she rested.

Dabi's mind wandered briefly back to the bar where he encountered the serpent woman. He snorted, disturbing Hebi slightly. She jerked her head but quickly returned it underneath her coil.

"People like that give snakes such a bad name," he spoke aloud to her. "And you do so much hard work eliminating the rats plaguing the streets. No one gives your species the credit they deserve. Such a shame."

Dabi leaned back against the wall, his hands resting in his lap. He decided he would wait until morning to offer her the mouse. She seemed all too content hugging him to want to strike now.

"I understand how it feels, Hebi," Dabi said somewhat sadly. He lifted up a hand, summoning heat to grow exceptionally within his palm. The room became illuminated in a soft blue as a flame burst to life in his hand, the flickering dance as a small spirit between his fingers.

"But I can be your voice. I can show people how important it is for you to exist. How it's vital for you to be here."

The snake didn't respond to his passionate words, but Dabi smiled into his fire. It reflected the burning inside his chest, a smoldering power ready to consume anything in its path.

"We'll get rid of those vermin. Just you wait."


End file.
